


Rolling in the Black

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Firefly Fusion, Gabriel Big Bang Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Firefly fusion (no cannon Firefly characters appearing). </p><p>For ten years, Gabriel and his motley crew have traveled through the black on the tempestuous ship, Morningstar. It's a hard life, complicated by Gabriel's other persona as Loki and an uneasy relationship with Alliance. When two passengers come aboard, everything will be threatened. </p><p>Many thanks to my beta, yego-navsegda!<br/>Click here for the lovely master post artwork by <a href=""> Sumer_Starlight</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Rolling in the Black

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: discussion of traumatic events, including medical torture in line with original Firefly canon.
> 
> A note about the timeline: The main action of the piece takes place five years after the battle of Serenity. River was in her first year of The Academy.

**April 2516**

The artificial dawn spread over the floor to pour over Gabriel’s bed. He woke reluctantly, easing back the thick thermablanket. The Morningstar ran cold, a quirk in engineering that no amount of tinkering could fix. Exposed skin prickling with chill, Gabriel sat up and reached for his robe. He settled into the folds, before shuffling into the closet that masqueraded as the captain’s washroom. 

The ship sighed and shuddered, the ever turning engine easing through the black. Gabriel pressed his hand to the wall as he brushed his teeth. Maybe all captains got sentimental over their ships, assigning them personality traits and moods. Maybe it was just him.

“Good morning, you bastard.” He spat toothpaste into the sink. There had never been a reply of course. Gabriel was whimsical, not crazy. 

As clean as one could get without wasting an extra water ration, Gabriel pulled on thermals, loose brown pants that tucked into practical boots and a thick knit sweater. He took the ladder up out of his quarters, pushing open the door that sealed him neatly away from the madness that lay beyond. 

“Morning, Cap!” Chuck called out. 

“How’d we do?” Gabriel crossed over the metal grating, then pulled himself up into the cockpit. 

“Just fine. Halfway to Georgia just like we planned. Bastard didn’t even shudder us off course.” Chuck pat the console with sloppy affection, rattling two empty whiskey bottles together. “Should be able to land by tonight.” 

“My two favorite boys!” Becky launched up into the tight bubble, holding out two steaming mugs. “Isn’t it a great morning?”

“It is if there’s coffee in those and one of them is for me.” Gabriel held out his hand and was rewarded with a hot mug. “Thanks, Becks.” 

“My pleasure. This one’s yours.” Becky set the second mug carefully at Chuck’s elbow. “You know you shouldn’t take the wheel before your first cup.” 

“Just checking numbers.” Chuck mumbled. 

“Whatever.” Becky kissed Chuck’s forehead with an audible smack. When she drew away, Chuck was smiling vaguely and reaching for his coffee. 

“Hear from our purchaser yet?” Gabriel took the first sip and let out a soft sigh of relief. He followed it with two sucrose tabs, letting them melt pleasantly on his tongue. 

“Yep, got the call before bed last night.” Pulling up the cortex interface, Becky flipped through a few screens. “Everything is in order. We’re landing in shuttle bay six and she’ll be there herself to accept the package along with an armed guard. Payment upon delivery, per usual, but Georgia is a tough planet tax wise. We’ll have to give about ten percent up.” 

“Where does that leave us?” 

“Enough for salaries and supplies, but not much extra.” She tapped through a few more screens. “We’re still getting by, but another year like this one...” 

“Maybe it’s time to take on passengers?” Chuck suggested, leaning in to study the data. Becky and Gabriel stared at him. “Just a thought.” 

“A regular thought or a you thought?” Gabriel drew the mug closer to his chest. 

“Not sure. Regular?” 

“Then forget it.” Taking another fortifying sip of coffee, Gabriel turned to leave. “Becks, see if you can find us another job as close as you can. Chuck, try not to kill us all, ok?” 

“You got it.” Chuck saluted. 

“Cap?” 

“Hm?” 

“I got a line on a Loki thing in Georgia.” Becky said tightly. “Want it?” 

“Yeah.” He took the steps down with care. “Send it to my room terminal.” 

The Morningstar, a fine example of the Luna Moth cargo class ship, had a long corridor that acted as a main artery for it’s crew. Morningstar’s bulbous glass head held the cockpit and his thick neck housed the crew. The mess and common living space were settled into his slithering belly. His heavy rear yielded vast cargo space, perfect for long hauls between systems. 

This time of morning the mess was empty, leaving Gabriel to scrounge breakfast in peace. The spray of paper over the kitchen table suggested that Becky hadn’t actually made it to bed last night. He didn’t bother inspecting her crawling script, already aware it had nothing to do with how the ship ran and everything to do with her other career. Gabriel had never fussed over his crew moonlighting. It would have been an ugly hypocrisy. 

He continued on his morning route, following the corridor to the split tail end of the ship. To the right the medical facility and Cargo Bay 1; to the left the engine room and Cargo Bay 2. Gabriel did a mental coin toss over which headache he wanted to tangle with first. The ship bucked unexpectedly, sending him careening into the left wall. 

“Sorry!” Chuck’s voice echoed over the intercom. “Unexpected meteorite!” 

Left it was then. Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, then started up a jaunty whistle. He had made the mistake of arriving too quietly to the engine room on more than one occasion and had the scars to prove it. 

“Kali?” He called from the doorway. “You up yet?” 

“I’m up.” The heels of her boots were barely visible under the massive rolling mechanism that pumped the oily lifeblood of the Morningstar through it’s freezing veins. “Pass me the spanner.” 

One lovely hand emerged, gesturing impatiently for the tool. He squatted down, setting it into her grasping fingers. The hand retreated and a few ominous knocking sounds rattled out. 

“Bastard sick again?” 

“Just maintenance.” The spanner clattered back out, rolling to his feet. “Starting to show his age. If we were flying under the Alliance regulations, ten years is about time for a decommissioning. But that’s shit. Rules made up by flash types that want the newest gadgets. There’s plenty of years left in him.” 

“Ten years.” Gabriel stared at her worn boots. “Where did it all go?” 

“Time flies when you’re having fun?” She suggested dryly. 

“Do you remember when it was just you, me and Chuck?” 

“No nostalgia.” Her foot lashed out, catching him sharply in the shin and sending him sprawling over the floor. “If you want to reminisce do it on your own time.” 

“See you at lunch?” He asked the ceiling. 

“Yes. Now get out.” 

“I’m the Captain of this vessel.” He complained as he scrambled to his feet. 

“Only because I don’t want to be.” She shot back. 

Which was fair enough. Retreating, he lost a few minutes looking over a few worn couplings. Nothing that wouldn’t hold for another few months, so he left them and reluctantly headed toward the medical facility. Luna Moths all came with a fully functional robotic surgeon. After the first wound the robot had sewn up on Gabriel’s arm, he’d decommissioned it with a crowbar. For many years, if they got hurt or sick they depended on the cortex for answers and well stocked supplies to get them through. 

Then along came Castiel, who at the moment appeared to be sleeping on the examining table. Gabriel studied his friend’s face. Given the stubble level, Gabriel could read the previous night’s story as easily as a headline datastream. Castiel must have gone to bed, managed to fall asleep for once, then been woken by one of his screaming nightmares. Not a complete idiot, he had pulled his tan thermacoat over his pajamas before stumbling to his office. There he had proscribed himself a heavy dose of hydrocodone then passed out right on the table in recovery position. 

“Never tell me what you dream about.” Gabriel told the unconscious man. Castiel had been a good soldier once, the kind of man that Gabriel admired as much as he loathed. Whatever had managed to break him was most likely horror beyond reckoning. 

Pulling a chair to the bedside, Gabriel kicked up his feet to rest near Castiel’s stomach. Years of moving through the black had taught Gabriel a fair amount of patience and he had always been good at amusing himself. 

When Castiel finally woke, it was to soft swearing as Gabriel attempted a difficult Cat’s Cradle move without benefit of a second pair of hands. 

“Here.” Castiel reached out, tugged at the loop that had become stuck around Gabriel’s pinkie. The string snapped into a perfect ladder. 

“Thanks.” With a twist, Gabriel liberated himself entirely. “So. Want to talk about?”

“No.” Sitting up provoked an ugly wince. “Do you wish to lecture me?” 

“Nope. Just figured I’d make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit or some similarly ridiculous death. Medics aren’t a dime a dozen, you know.” 

“I’m fine.” In a ginger maneuver, Castiel did manage to get to his feet though he had to grab the table for support. “I may have miscalculated the dose.” 

“Only if you weren’t aiming for total oblivion.” Gabriel snorted. “You remember our deal?” 

“No.” Castiel grumbled. 

“Second overdose and I get all the goodies to be dispensed in a safe and still completely illegal fashion. Don’t make me get the letter you signed.” 

“You would have no idea if I didn’t give it all to you.” 

“Probably not.” Gabriel agreed cheerfully. “But you’d know and your prickly little conscience would eat you up with guilt in the end. Hand over the goods.” 

It took a few very long minutes for Castiel to produce the entirety of his stash. Sealing it up in a bag, Gabriel tucked it into one of his countless pockets. 

“You’ll give it to me if I need it?” Castiel watched him tucked it away, tongue swiping over his painfully cracked lips. 

“I promise. I’m a reliable dealer. Ring my doorbell and I’ll be there with a dose.” 

“Fine.” 

“You should shower before lunch if you don’t want Becks playing twenty questions.” Gabriel left before Castiel could summon a reply. 

Back to his own room, Gabriel called up the file Becky had sent him. Looked like Georgia had had some trouble with a serial rapist. It didn’t take much research to figure out why the local law hadn’t managed to find the man. Number one suspect was the sheriff himself. Classy. Gabriel melted another sucrose tab on his tongue. The case looked clear cut, but no one local would do anything about it. The itch at the back of his mind started to burn. 

“You eating, Cap?” Becky stuck her head down. 

“Coming.” 

The crew coalesced around the table. Castiel looked better for a shower and shave, the dark bags under his eyes at standard levels. He sat at Gabriel’s right, accepting a bowl of chili with a soft smile for Becky. 

“Smells good.” He told her and she gave him a blinding grin. 

Kali sat to Gabriel’s left, soaking a bit of stale bread into her own bowl. A smear of grease crossed over her forehead and her hair had been gathered up into a messy bun held together with a metal pin that doubled as a wickedly sharp stiletto. It had been years since they’d been a couple, but Gabriel still lost his breath a little at her beauty. 

“Stop staring.” She warned without looking up from her food. 

“Wasn’t.” He countered. 

“Liar.” She hid her smile around a bite of bread. 

“Bastard’s screwed us with that meteorite. Just up and lost the entire flight path.” Chuck groaned as he slumped down at the other end of the table. “Had to replot the whole thing.” 

“Aw, but you found a faster way the second time around.” Becky clucked over him, taking her seat between Castiel and Chuck. 

Gabriel dragged his spoon through the bowl, before taking a rich mouthful to his lips. It was perfect as usual. Not for the first time, Gabriel thanked Chuck for his excellent taste in women. There was no way Gabriel would ever have hired Becky on her own merits, but Chuck’s preference had swayed him. It had turned out that not only was she a fantastic cook, but her organizational skills were unparalleled. As a bonus, she respected Gabriel unlike the rest of his ungrateful crew. 

“Our ETA the same?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yeah.” Chuck ate mechanically, eyes already on the cockpit again. “Unless himself gets startled by another stray rock.” 

“I’ll need lists from everyone.” Becky chimed in. “Georgia has a decent sized market.” 

“You’re not going in there alone.” Gabriel said firmly. 

“I’ll go with you.” Kail smiled thinly at Becky. “I need a few specialized parts.” 

“Girls’ day out!” Becky beamed. 

“Indeed.” On anyone else, Kali’s dryness shriveled hopes and dreams to dust, but Becky was utterly immune.

“We can stop by that funky little beading stand! Oh, this’ll be great.” 

“And where will you be?” Castiel turned to Gabriel. Silence descended. 

“Taking care of business.” He blew the steam off his spoon. “Anyone have a problem with that?” 

“Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t travel alone.” Kali’s eyes narrowed. “Morningstar isn’t the only one starting to show his age.” 

“Thank you for that cheap shot, but I’m sure I’ll be just fine. If not, you inherit the ship. So it’s a win-win.” 

“How long do you have do this?” Castiel’s eyes were hard on him, scraping raw over his skin. 

“Tell you what, you agree to sit down with a trauma counselor or hell, just take a night off with a trained Companion then you get to lecture me.” 

“We’re just worried about you.” Becky inched a little closer to Chuck, who was starting to look ill with the rising tension. 

“Well, don’t.” He got up from the table. “Anyone needs me, knock, but you better be on fire.” 

Pulling a hatch shut just didn’t provide the same satisfying slam as a door. His quarters, lit at noon levels now, weren’t particularly impressive. When Becky and Chuck had finally settled things, Gabriel had given over his room with it’s more generously sized bed to them. This room was cozy bordering on cramped, but it was closer to what he thought of as Morningstar’s ornery brain. Just beyond the wall he was currently leaning on lay the vast computer under the cockpit, ticking away at a thousand complicated calculations that kept them moving and alive. 

“Are we old?” He asked the humming walls. “I don’t feel old.” 

Then again, he didn’t feel much like the furious twenty-seven year old that had hit the ground running and never looked back. Eventually anger faded, mellowing into regret and melancholia. 

“Ok, feeling sorry for self hour cancelled in favor of getting shit done.” He sat down in front of his terminal, called up a playlist. With a quick flick of his wrist, the volume screamed upwards. Sheriff Brody McCall’s life spilled out over his terminal, sucrose tabs sweet on his tongue and Gabriel got to work.

“Attention,” Chuck’s voice cut in hours later, “we’ve been cleared for landing. Local time is 6pm, atmo normal and ha! Balmy nineteen degrees celsius. Normal people weather.” 

Gabriel scribbled down a few last minute notes, before cleaning up his tracks and shutting everything down. A quick trip to the smuggler’s niche tucked away under the kitchen to pick up Loki’s supplies and he was ready for action. 

Once they were docked, Gabriel made his way to Cargo Bay 1, where Kali was already waiting by the three massive crates waiting to slide out of their lives. He could hear Becky coming in a whirlwind of laughter and chatter.

“Madame Graves just arrived in the hanger, Cap.” She came up short next to him, all wide eyes and bundled manuscripts. “She’ll be here in five.” 

“Open him up then.” He gave the nod to Kali. “Faster we can get this off, faster we can have money to burn.” 

The door opened with heavy series of thuds. Gabriel strode out, already pleased with the first flush of warmer air. The hanger was a busy one, a half-dozen ships docked including one massive ship that screamed Alliance. Old warnings screamed through him, sending adrenaline flushing through his veins. He didn’t go back inside. Time and a few careful surgeries over the years had done the trick. His own brothers would probably walk right by him these days without sparing a second look. 

“Haven’t seen one of those in an age.” Kali came alongside him. 

“Phoenix cruiser?” Gabriel shrugged. “Wasn’t there one in port at that sad little Rim world a few months back?” 

“Not the cruiser.” She pointed to a ship sitting just two docks over. “Impala-67. Two-man planet hopper. They were never what you’d call popular. Hard to maintain and not much room for supplies. Not to mention you have to really like your partner.” 

It was certainly small, but beautifully kept. Considering that most ships never saw planetside for more than a day or two at a time, no one gave much attention to their bodies. Yet someone had taken the time with the Impala to paint it a glossy black and buffed the metal trim until it shone. If it weren’t for the bulky weight of it and obvious antique shaping, Gabriel might have mistaken it for some flashy highroller’s pleasure hopper. 

“Two people fit in that thing?” He scoffed. “Like isn’t the word.” 

“It works if you do though. It has serious speed. The engine is about the same size as the bastard’s while hauling a tenth of the weight. You need to get somewhere fast, there’s your ride.” Kali didn’t approach the ship, but Gabriel knew she was cataloging and appraising it. “Got to be an original. Forty years old at least.” 

“Captain Lyesmith?” A petite woman swathed in silk approached with two burly guards behind her. 

“You must be Madame Graves.” He gave her his best plastic customer smile. “A pleasure.” 

“I’m impressed by your turnaround time, Captain. Now if the cargo is undamaged, we may be discussing repeat business.” She gave him a quick lookover, then gestured the men to inspect the wares. “Even if your prices are on the high end.” 

“Mouths to feed.” He gestured a little behind him at Becky and Chuck. “You know how it is.” 

“Do I?” She smiled at him faintly. 

“I’ve heard that you’re the lead breeder of racing hounds.” Becky had told him. That counted as hearing. “Can’t imagine they raise up cheap.” 

“True.” Her smiled deepened. “The food costs alone are horrifying.” 

They were chatting like old friends by the time her guards had inspected and found the goods to spec. Gabriel still wasn’t entirely sure what the crates contained, only that Becky assured him it was nothing illegal. They were careful about that kind of thing. To the Alliance, they were a straightforward cargo ship and Gabriel wanted to keep it that way. 

“It’s so rare to find good people in your line of work.” Madame Graves put a hand to his elbow. “The payment has been wired to your account. Do have a good evening. I’ll be calling you soon.” 

“Thank you. You have a nice day.” He walked her out to the truck her men had loaded and handed her up to them. 

“Not going home with her?” Kali asked with a raised brow when he returned. 

“What do I always say, Chuck?” He called out. 

“Don’t dip your wick where it might stick.” Chuck said as though every word of it offended him. 

“Bingo. She’s got money and the promise of more coming at us. I’m not dicking around with that. Literally or figuratively.” He smiled at Becky. “We get paid?” 

“Money in the bank!” She grinned. 

“Fantastic. Hit the market before it closes. Chuck, you staying behind this time?” 

“Me and Castiel. He stuck his nose out for a minute, then ran back inside.” Chuck shrugged. “Guess the warm air didn’t agree with him.” 

More like he was still fucked up from last night’s overdose. 

“You get his list, Becks?” 

“Yep, it’s not long. Few bandages, food requests that kind of thing.” She gave her heavy canvas bag a pat. “Didn’t see anything from you though.” 

“Nothing I need and not enough left for my wants, so skip me over this time, ok?” He clapped his hands together. “I’m off. See you all tomorrow morning.” 

“Good luck!” Becky called after him. 

On his way out, he ducked into a bathroom. It took a few coaxing adjustments, but the pocket kit produced what was required. Quick change of clothes, lifts in his shoes, the kit’s prosthetics and the man who exited looked nothing like the one who went in. The costume would never pass on the core worlds with their hyperalert security, but against cameras and out of date scanners, it was more than sufficient. 

Georgia was a more settled planet than their usual haunts. It had stayed neutral during the war and reaped the benefits. The Alliance presence was obvious, but not overbearing and it didn’t have the beaten down feel of those on the losing side. The roads had been paved recently and the buildings were steel instead of wood. Decent place all around. 

Following the map he’d drawn out from the cortex, Gabriel found his way through the winding streets as dusk crept in. The Sheriff lived only a block or so away from his office, so he stopped there first. A young deputy sat behind a desk with his spine so stiff it looked painful. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Hope so.” Gabriel put on a sheepish look. “I...look. This a little...Sheriff Brody, is he here?” 

“He’s making rounds, be back in a half-hour or so. Why?” 

“Damnit. I hate to do this, but he said he’d be here. The thing is...” He pursed his lips. “Well. I knew him back at school, you know? Always knew he was gonna be a lawman. When we were barely kids, three girls got roughed up by the same guy. Brody said he’d take care of it and sure enough the assaults just dead stopped. He moved away not long after and I never did get a chance to thank him. One of the girls was my sister you see. I’m just stopping here for a few hours then I’m back off home. So could you just tell him that James Gavin was here to see him?” 

“Oh, sure Mr. Gavin!” The deputy took down the note, but Gabriel could see his hands were shaking. Good. Kid had his own suspicions. Probably as soon as Gabriel left, the kid would be calling up old records from the Sheriff’s hometown and find the rash of similar assaults. Another nail in the coffin. 

Assured that Brody wouldn’t be home anytime soon, Gabriel went to the house next. A light was on in the kitchen and when he knocked, a broad shouldered woman with dark hair and an apron around her waist answered. 

“Mrs. McCall?” 

“That’s me.” 

“I’m sorry to bother you, m’am. But I’m from Internal Investigations.” He flipped a badge at her. It looked Alliance enough to pass muster. “Can I ask you a few questions about your husband?” 

“Has he done something wrong?” She asked, nervous and giving it all away in her body language. 

“May I come in?” He asked gently. 

An hour later, she was sobbing into his shoulder while their cups of coffee cooled on the table. A half hour after that and she was packing her bags to go visit her sister for a few days. 

“You won’t kill him?” She asked as she folded her shirts into a carpet bag. 

“No, m’am.” He assured her. “But he won’t be hurting anyone else.” 

When Brody came home, it was to a cold, dark house and the press of a blade to his throat. With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel scratched the ever present itch that niggled at the back of his head. It didn’t take long to break Brody down from posturing man to a whimpering mess of an animal. Planting the right evidence took longer. 

“Thanks for the good times.” Gabriel cinched the ropes a little tighter around Brody’s wrists. “But don’t call me again. I’m a one night stand sort of girl.” 

He slipped out into the night. In the first patch of darkness in the lee of a house, he changed out of his bloody clothes and gloves. Wrapping them in a neat ball, he walked the rest of the way into the city and tossed it all in a hobo’s trash fire. 

“Hey!” The transient protested. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Your dinner is on me if you can direct me to the closest whorehouse.” Gabriel held up a few bills. 

Rayna’s Satin Dolls was a sleazy joint with ancient red velvet curtains draping every surface. Luckily they were sleazy enough to take a man’s money and ask no questions. He took an empty room for the night without company. Being Loki always undid him and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Whorehouses were notoriously dead in the wee hours of the morning, allowing him to strip off his prosthetics and slip away entirely unnoticed. 

The port was still in the early stages of waking when he slipped back through its corridors. A few crews made repairs to their ships, but for the most part silence reigned. Morningstar sat serenely in his dock, a heavy watchfulness in his slick lines and folded solar wings. 

A man stood next to the cargo hatch, one hand resting lightly against the hull. He was tall and broad shouldered, long shaggy hair obscuring his face. Soft linen pants and plain white shirt that had seen too many washings gave nothing away. 

“Can I help you?” Gabriel rested his hand on the butt of his gun, not threatening really. Just warning. 

“He worries.” The man rumbled, tilting his head a little to the left as if listening to something beyond ordinary hearing. “You leave with death in your eyes and come back bloodstained.” 

“Who worries?” Gabriel frowned, tightening his grip. 

“Your ship.” 

“Sam?” A deep voice crossed the hanger, the beat of heavy boots on the floor. “Sammy?” 

“I’m here.” Said the tall man.

“ _Shunsheng duh gaowhan!_ I told you to stay in the ship.” Half-walking, half-running, the man emerged from the shadowy recesses of the dock. A battered brown leather coat flew out behind him like a broken wing. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“He was waiting like me.” Sam dropped his fingers away from the hull. “So we talked for awhile.” 

“Who was waiting?” The other man grabbed him roughly, spinning him around and watching him closely. 

“The Morningstar.” Sam didn’t seem to mind the treatment, letting himself be hauled about. “He’s a Luna Moth.” 

“Ships aren’t hes.” 

“Mine is.” Gabriel said mildly. “Though I’d greatly like to know how Sam here knew that.” 

The other man stopped his checking of Sam’s person to observe Gabriel with narrowed eyes. 

“He probably overheard your crew.” The man shrugged. “He’s not...Sam doesn’t always get things the way normal people do.” 

“I’m smarter.” Sam said matter of factly, pulling away from from the possessive grip. 

For the first time, Gabriel got a good look at his face. He was a handsome young man, early twenties maybe, but his eyes were vague as if he saw something just over Gabriel’s shoulders. 

“I can see that.” Gabriel glanced at Sam’s companion. “Well, this has been so much fun, but I’d like to get aboard my ship now, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah, sure.” The other man put an arm around Sam’s wrist and tugged a little. “C’mon Sammy.” 

“Nice meeting you.” Those vague eyes crossed over Gabriel’s face. 

“Sure, kid.” Gabriel put his hand and eye to the ship’s scanner. 

The doors opened with a protesting grate of metal. By the time Gabriel stepped inside and thought to look over his shoulder, Sam and his keeper were long gone. Shaking off the strange visitation, Gabriel followed the smell of eggs to the mess. Becky was standing over the stove, her hair tied back with a blue ribbon and dark bags under her eyes. 

“What kind of night did you have?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Kali took me out drinking.” Becky blinked slowly. “Then we went to a show. I think. I don’t know, it’s all blurry.” 

“What’d she give you? Moonshine?” 

“Maybe? It tasted like strawberries.” 

“Great. Those eggs just for you then?” 

“Hm?” She looked back down at the pan. “Oh. No, you should have some. There’s fresh bread too. Figured we should enjoy a little of the good stuff before it goes stale.” 

“Good thinking.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Chuck up yet?” 

“No. He had one of his headaches this morning. Left the notes on your desk.” 

“Damn. Did you get a look at them?” 

“Yeah.” She slid half the eggs onto a plate. “It’s the passenger thing. They’re definitely coming.” 

“I hate passengers.” Gabriel found the bread and cut off a generous hunk. “Too many questions and baggage and noise.” 

“But money. Remember how much we like money?” She handed him a pat of real butter and he made a pleased noise. “Money buys butter.” 

“Stop praying on my weaknesses.” 

They ate breakfast in companionable silence. Castiel wandered in, stubble thick on his cheeks. He poured himself a mug of coffee, black as pitch, then sat down heavily next to Gabriel. 

“Sleep well?” Gabriel asked wryly. 

“No talking.” Castiel demanded, pressing the mug to his forehead. 

“Amen.” Kali, still wearing a silk robe and little else, folded herself down on the table until her forehead was comfortably pillowed in her arms. When Castiel sat his mug down, she stole it and finished off the contents in two long swallows. 

“Nnf.” Castiel protested, eyelids sliding closed. 

“We’re not leaving Georgia today, are we?” Gabriel asked the world at large. 

“I downloaded the new episodes of Without You I’m a Jellyfish.” Becky picked listlessly at her eggs. “I think Ariana tells David that the baby isn’t his.” 

“Never happen.” Gabriel poured the rest of his coffee into Castiel’s emptied mug. “She likes living on the estate too much.” 

They draped themselves over the couches, the lulling drama of the show passing over them. After the second hour, Chuck emerged from his whiskey coma. He stood wobbly in the doorway looking lost until Becky spread her arms out. With a grateful smile, he collapsed into her, dark curls spread over her fuzzy sweater. 

“Did Lanie break up with George yet?” Chuck asked through a wide yawn. 

“Don’t be stupid.” Becky rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know she’s staying with him until his grandmother dies so she can get the inheritance money.” 

“I wonder if she’ll kill him.” Kali looked up from painting her toenails. “She shot her last husband, right?” 

“Nope, shoved him down a cliff. Means he’ll probably be back next season.” Gabriel smiled. “The eternal life of soap characters.” 

“They’re all terrible people.” Castiel had melted boneless over an armchair. “Why do we watch this?” 

“Because we’re terrible people?” Gabriel shrugged. “And it’s more entertaining than that halo shining crap on Coreworld Broadcasting.” 

The show lulled them all into a semi-coma and the morning slid into afternoon. When a notification pinged over the ship’s comm, they all started and Chuck spilled off the couch to the floor. 

“Ow.” He said with a yawn. 

“I’ll get it!” Becky stepped over him to the computer. “Hm. General posting. Dockmaster says he’s got two passengers looking for a ride out to Athens.” 

“Too far.” Gabriel paused the channel. “Especially without cargo.” 

“Well, the Loves in Fall’s Landing put in a non-time sensitive request a few days ago to pick up a few care packages for their kids out at Windfall. That’d be two jobs in one and you know the Loves pay pretty good.” 

“That’ll be a two week run one way. Anything there we could take back?” He willed her to say no. 

“Let me...” She ran through a series of checks. “Looks like the Eastminster mines dug up some rarefied crystal that needs special shipment. We’ve got the setup to haul it.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Kali smiled thinly. 

“Perfect noose.” Gabriel sighed. “Fine. Book ‘em.” 

“Passengers will need Cargo Bay 2 for parking.” Becky spread the screen wide. “Their craft is pretty small. Should fit.” 

“If they’ve got a ship, what do they need us for?” He grumbled, popping a sucrose tab to get his energy back up. He’d need it if he was dealing with passengers. 

“Request said they need to make some repairs. But they don’t need tools or parts, they’ve got that handled.” Becky frowned, scrolling through. “They don’t mind sharing. Should we put them in spare crew room? It’d save us trying to tidy up the guest squat. Still got those weird stains in there from those cow herders.” 

“Might as well. Hope they don’t mind bunk beds.” The spare room abutted Gabriel’s, but the walls were thick enough. He’d rather keep strangers close to hand anyway. “When are they ready to board?” 

“Tonight, looks like.” 

“We prepared for a midnight launch?” Gabriel kicked lightly at Chuck, who was sprawled comfortably across the floor. 

“Can be. Athens is an easy enough haul.” 

“Alright, Becks. Tell ‘em they’ve got a ride. Don’t forget to warn them about the bastard’s special climate.” 

“Done and done.” 

The afternoon saw a return to industry. Becky disappeared into the spare crew quarters to make up the beds and clear away the smell of disuse while Chuck plotted their course. Castiel and Gabriel went through the kitchen, re-rationing for the trip and tucking away the more exotic foods into the locked crew-only storage. Passengers paying only a standard haul rate weren’t getting fresh fruit. Kali disappeared into the engine room to warm everything up before takeoff or maybe just to continue her morning nap. Gabriel knew better than to ask. 

The communication relay buzzed as Georgia’s fat red sun headed down the horizon. Gabriel wiped his hands on a cloth and took his time getting down to Cargo Bay 2. Becky had beaten him there by a longshot, doors already spread open. The Impala-67 that Kali had been admiring slipped through, making a rough coughing noise as its landing gear touched down. 

“Must have had a crash.” Gabriel leaned against the console that Becky regarded intently. “Screwed the poor girl six ways to Sunday.” 

“Maybe.” Becky replied absently, then hit the comm. “You’re in. Closing bay doors.” 

“Received.” The comm crackled. 

“Passengers.” Gabriel muttered. 

“You’ll live.” Becky smiled at him. “Maybe you’ll like them!” 

“I don’t like people as a general rule.” 

“Aw, but you like me!” 

“Less and less right now.” He scowled at her until she widened her eyes and pouted out her lower lip. “Stop that....fine. I like you.” 

The Impala’s side door cracked open and slid seamlessly outward. The man from earlier emerged, Sam close on his heels. 

“...you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Gabriel groaned.

“Welcome to Morningstar!” Becky chirped. “My name is Becky, we talked over the comm.” 

“Hi.” The man held out his hand. “Dean Smith. This is my brother Sam.” 

“Nice to meet you!” She shook Dean’s hand in a quick pump, then eyed Sam speculatively. He barely noticed her, staring directly at Gabriel. “Oh! And this our Captain. Gabriel Lyesmith.” 

“We’ve met.” Dean said shortly. “Didn’t catch names before though.” 

“So what’s on Athens for you boys?” Gabriel asked with force joviality. 

“Got a friend out that way, who could use a few spare hands.” Dean smiled tightly. “Figure we’ll help him out, get some money in our pockets.” 

“Hear your ship’s busted up.” 

“Nothing I can’t fix.” 

“Let me show you your room!” Becky cut in, all dazzling smile. “It’s not much, but it’s clean and we’re a friendly bunch. You’re welcome to hang out in the mess or the living room. There’s a decent cortex connection for the first two weeks we’re traveling...” 

She’d grabbed Dean’s arm and started leading him out into the corridor, talking a blue streak. Sam stared at Gabriel. 

“I have something on my face?” He challenged. 

“No.” Sam’s vague look settled into something far sharper and a little unnerving. “Sorry about my brother. He’s had a rough few months. Maybe a rough few years.” 

“Little abruptness isn’t going to unsettle me.” 

“No. I don’t think it would.” Sam smiled and it sat oddly on his face as if it was no longer used to doing it. 

“Better go catch up with your brother before Becky talks him to death.” 

“He can give as good as he gets.” But Sam did go, bag swaying a little on his shoulder. Helpless to resist, Gabriel watched the smooth motion of muscle and sinew. Sam might be wooley, but he was a good looking man. 

The brothers Smith apparently found no fault with their bunk, not bothering to emerge after takeoff. Becky put together a slapdash meal of sandwiches while Gabriel browbeat Castiel into a chess game. They were evenly matched at it, Gabriel too impulsive for much long term strategy and Castiel too rigid to think outside his book learned moves. 

“Check.” Castiel said softly around midnight. 

“In your dreams.” Gabriel moved a bishop to defend the temporarily exposed king. 

“Checkmate.” Kali corrected, reaching out to move Castiel’s last pawn. “Go to bed, you’re both idiots when you’re sleep deprived.” 

“As madame commands.” Gabriel got to his feet, sweeping the chipped pieces into a worn velvet bag and folding the board up with care. 

“Night.” Becky said vaguely, scribbling away at a stack of papers. 

Before turning in, Gabriel stuck his head into the cockpit. The pilot’s seat was tilted back, dark curls sticking out over the top. Chuck’s boots rested on the console and his throaty hum filled the small space. The song was one Gabriel knew well. He closed his eyes against the bitter memory. No nostalgia, Kaili had said. And she was right. 

Everything was as it should be. No room for regret. 

“Night, Chuck.” 

“Night, Captain.” The humming paused. “They seem decent enough. The passengers, I mean.” 

“If you say so.” He headed back down again, the humming returning and following him all the way into sleep. 

Morning came too early, rousing Gabriel from half-completed dreams. He lingered in bed, chasing them down, but nothing resolved itself. Annoyed, he went through his morning routine with his eyes half-lidded. Becky greeted him in the mess with a bowl of oatmeal though and that alleviated some of his early crankiness. His bowl was already half-destroyed by the time the Smiths emerged, wrapped in layers. 

“Bastard getting to you?” Chuck asked, sympathetically. “We’ve got some extra thermablankets somewhere if you need them.” 

“What’s wrong with the heating system?” Dean blew into his hands, chafing them the together. 

“Technically nothing.” Kali put her feet into Gabriel’s lap. “Luna Moths are primarily solar powered. They spread white sails when they’re close enough to a light source and gather it. The computer then pushes the power to essential systems. The bastard has a little tick. He doesn’t consider heat above 15 degrees celsius essential. ” 

“You call your ship names?” Dean frowned as if offended on the bastard’s behalf. 

“It’s a nickname.” Chuck sucked down a tablespoon of oatmeal. “He’s ornery, you know? Seems to fight us on every little thing. I program in a trip and he takes a detour. Hell, he even laughs at us sometimes.” 

“He does that shudder thump thing.” Kali agreed. “Like a guy shaking from laughter.” 

“He’s been known to toss people around when he’s pissed.” Gabriel added, not to be outdone. “We let a tech in once to take a look at the heat and the guy called the bastard a bucket of bolts. Two hours the tech tinkered, breaking nails and getting shocks. Then Morningstar bucks like a bronco for no reason and tossed the guy into a box of bolts.” 

“Ran out of here like his ass was on fire.” Kali grinned. 

“You’re all nuts.” Dean declared. 

“He calls the Impala all these little pet names.” Sam supplied, normal little brother needling. He looked like a regular guy today in his thick layers and clear eyed smile. “Makes me feel like the third wheel sometimes.” 

“You don’t understand the fine art of ship whispering.” Dean took a bowl of oatmeal from Becky with a grateful grin, then started eating with appropriate gusto. “Keeps Baby purring for me.” 

“Baby.” Kali repeated with a curl to her lip. “Really?” 

“What?” Dean said around a mouthful of oats and a sip of coffee. “You never sweet talk your ship?” 

“He’s not that kind of boy.” She said, but Gabriel knew the truth. In the wee hours of the night, when she was homesick, heartsick beyond reckoning, she sang to Morningstar’s engines. Beautiful haunted songs that Gabriel listened to in the corridor, unwilling to intrude and unable to walk away. 

“See-” Dean started then stopped abruptly, spoon dropping limp from his fingers. 

“What?” Gabriel turned to follow Dean’s gaze and landed on Castiel, stumbling into the mess. His hair was a mess, perpetual tan thermacoat hanging wrinkled over his pajamas. Just Castiel’s usual utterly broken self. “Bout time you rousted yourself.” 

“Cas.” The syllable rasped out of Dean’s throat like it might take blood with it. 

Castiel froze. 

“I take it you two know each other?” Gabriel asked lightly. 

“Little bit.” Sam hunched his shoulders, shuffling closer to Dean on the bench. Offering support or looking for it? 

“Dean.” Castiel said with far more reverence than usually spilled from his lips. “We should speak.” 

“Hell you say.” But Dean was already on his feet, food forgotten. They disappeared back down the hall, the hatch to Castiel’s bunk opening and closing in rapid thumping succession. 

“Story there?” Gabriel turned to Sam, who commandeered Dean’s oatmeal. 

“Novel. Series.” Sam shrugged. “Not mine to tell.” 

“Bet we could guess.” Becky glanced at Gabriel, seeking confirmation. He shook his head once, quickly. 

“Long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, let them have their secrets.” Gabriel forced the last of his food down. “Hey, kid, how good are you at untying knots?” 

“Don’t know. Good as anyone else, I guess.” Sam blinked. “Why?” 

“You’ve been recruited.” Chuck declared. “It’s his Sisyphean project.” 

“Oh come on. Just because you wussed out on me...” 

“My fingers started bleeding!” Chuck protested. 

“Don’t listen to him.” Gabriel turned back to Sam. “It’s just a brainless job that I like having some help for.”

“That’s he’s been working on for a year and can’t get the rest of us to help with anymore.” Kali started collecting bowls. “Good luck, kid.” 

“I’m not a kid.” Sam protested. 

“Sure you are!” Becky took the stack from Kali, bringing them to the sink. “Compared to us.” 

“Becks, you’re only thirty-one.” Chuck tilted backwards, giving her a soft look. “Practically a baby compared to us old folk.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Gabriel got up and cocked his head toward Cargo Bay 1. “Come on, kid. We escape now or they’ll banter us to death before lunch. The rest of you, maybe do some work?” 

“Yes, Captain!” Becky chimed. Kali and Chuck snorted in unison. 

“You run a loose ship.” Sam trailed after him. 

“I don’t really run it.” He ran a hand along a pipe. “It’s more of a parliamentary system where I get final vetoing power.” 

“That’s unusual. Most guys get to be Captain, the bossing around is a perk.” 

“Eh. They know in a tight spot that I’ve got final say. What else can I ask for? They know their business better than I do.” 

“Takes a lot of trust though.” 

Gabriel swung down into the holding pod with it’s netted mess sprawled as hopelessly as ever across the floor. 

“They’re not waifs I picked off a breadline.” Gabriel tugged uselessly at one rope. “I know them better than they know themselves.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Not much of a boast. None of them are dripping in insight.” Shoving a pile of netting into Sam’s hands, Gabriel grinned. “Now, show me what you’ve got.” 

“What is this?” Sam started picking at one tight knot. 

“This is the emergency replacement for the left flank solar wing.” Underneath the heavy rope the brilliant white fabric shimmered. “I think. I found it in an old storage container last year, but time fucked the knots up pretty good. If it is the solar panel, you can’t just cut into the rope. You’d risk slicing the fabric which is a bitch to repair. So I’ve been picking it apart by hand.” 

“That does sound kind of ridiculous.” But Sam folded gracefully down, unerringly finding the tightest clump of knots and rolling them between his fingers to get the measure of them. “Guess it’s not a rush job?” 

“Nah. Just too much time between here and there sometimes and there are worst things I could concentrate on then.” He started in on a different end, picking at the last knot he’d loosened and failed to unravel. “Must be harder with the two of you crammed into that little bitty ship.” 

“It’s roomier than it looks.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he worked, it looked natural on him. “And we make a good team. Sometimes I think we’re better off in the black than we are planetside. We grew up that way, you know?” 

“Planet hopping for work?” Gabriel guessed.

“Sort of. Our Dad did anyway. We were more like along for the ride for a lot of it.” 

“Must have watched a lot of vids to pass that kind of time.” He couldn’t imagine there was much more in the way of entertainment on a ship like the Impala. 

“Nah. Vids were for other kids. We trained a lot to keep from getting muscle atrophy, you know? And Dean was good about coming up with weird games.” Sam grinned as the first knot came undone in his hands. “I studied a lot too.” 

“Studied what?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Whatever got my attention. There wasn’t a curriculum you needed to follow on the Rim, so no one cared when I went to school if I was sort of scattered. I read a lot about astrophysics, obviously. Then psychology and sociology. A lot of mythology. I liked stories from Earth that Was, ate up whatever was left which wasn’t much.” As Sam spoke, Gabriel stopped working. He watched as Sam pulled through knot after knot without pause. Chuck actually had bled over those same ends as had the rest of the crew at some point or another. “There’s a lot more neo-classic stuff around. I like that too. Stories people tell each other about the edges of space, that kind of thing.” 

“Like the Reavers.” 

“Those aren’t stories.” Sam’s hands stilled. “I’ve seen them.” 

“So have I.” Gabriel allowed and Sam’s hands moved again, though there was a new tension gathered in his shoulders. “Ugly bastards. We barely escaped, took half a town with us and almost couldn’t make it to a safely to the next settlement we were so low on fuel. Not something I would want to do again.” 

“I shot my first one when I was eleven.” Sam glanced up at Gabriel and whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him. He went on. “Almost got taken by them at fifteen. The farther out you go, the more raids you run into and the Alliance doesn’t do a damn thing to stop them.” 

“Most Alliance citizens really do think they’re just legend. Can’t blame them for not fighting what they don’t believe in.” 

“Can’t I?” Sam challenged. “They claim to protect everyone, but they just sit in their tall towers and stopper their ears to anything that challenges the status quo. I think I can blame them for a lot.” 

“Probably.” Gabriel equivocated. “Never saw much point in being angry at what I couldn’t change though.” 

“Guess I know what side of the war you stood on then.” Sam growled. 

“Bet I’d surprise you.” Gabriel yanked on one end of the rope, watching as two knots gave a little and another tightened. “What if I told you that we didn’t fight at all? We serviced planets cut off from supplies to the Alliance. Not glamorous or valiant, but it had to get done.” 

“And you made money off it.” 

“There’s that. But what would you have me do? Starve my family to fight in a war that I didn’t agree with?” 

“It’s profiteering.” 

“You couldn’t have been more than thirteen when the war started.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No hard leap to guess your brother was a Browncoat, so I’m going to guess you heard a lot of stirring speeches and saw some grand gestures. But war is an ugly nasty bit of business, regardless of how righteous it makes you feel. There were a lot of people even in the Browncoat movement that suggested diplomatic alternatives.” 

“It was the Alliance that fired the first shot.” 

“Sure. But only when everything had reached a fever pitch. You’re right about one thing, they really would rather would sit in their towers and do what they please in more subtle ways. It was the Browncoats that called them out. It was the Browncoats that insured it would be war.” 

“For a just cause.” 

“Still dead bodies in the ground.” One of Gabriel’s nails chipped against the rope where he dug in too hard. “Still enough trauma to scar a generation.” 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Sam flashed him a wary smile. “Or this is gonna get downright rude.” 

“If it gets down to slugging out, you win by default.” Gabriel returned the smile with an easy lie. “I know when I’ve met my match. What does that brother of yours feed you?” 

“Shitty grilled cheese.” Sam had undone a whole chain of knots now, the rope lying limp in his hands. “A lot of canned stuff.” 

“And got you out of it? That’s impressive.” 

“Do you watch a lot of vids?” Sam asked, clearly grappling for another line of conversation. 

“Sure. Too much free time like I said.” 

They spent the rest of the morning talking about cheap entertainment. Around lunch, Sam had a brief loss of sanity, but he returned to lucidity before Gabriel could get truly worried about it. He might not of even noticed it happened, except that Sam stopped working to rub at his forehead and mutter something guttural. 

“That happen to you a lot?” Gabriel asked when it seemed to have passed. “Because yesterday you were a little bugnuts, but today...fine.” 

“You’re kind of blunt, you know that?” Sam scowled. 

“No use pussyfooting around it. You were talking to my ship yesterday like you were best friends and today you’re having a perfectly reasonable conversation with me. Should I pretend that I didn’t pick up on that?” 

“I have good and bad days, I guess.” Sam’s massive shoulders curved inward as if he could hide from the scrutiny. “Less and less bad days now.” 

“Lunch!” Becky called down. “First come, first serve.” 

“Means we’ve got to get up there before Chuck remembers he has a stomach.” 

Neither Dean nor Castiel were anywhere to be seen through lunch. Gabriel ate his way through a double portion of soy burger and didn’t go bang on the hatch to Castiel’s room, despite being gravely tempted. Instead, he headed into the cockpit to look over the books with Becky and sign off on a few things. Sam retreated into his bunk, apparently content to spend some time on his own. 

Dean did reappear at dinner though he stayed quiet, methodically eating whatever arrived in front of him. Kali and Becky held up most of the conversation, debating the finer points of bargaining with reluctant merchants. 

Gabriel watched Sam. Squeezed in tight next to his brother, Sam visibly decompensated through the meal. He’d arrived bright eyed, but by the end his head hung low, hair covering a glassy expression and lips moving in some silent recitation. When they were done eating, Dean guided him out as if Sam had become an invalid. 

“He ok?” Becky wondered aloud when the hatch to the Smiths’ room closed. 

“Not our problem.” Gabriel decided. “Who’s on washing up tonight? Not me? Fantastic.” 

He shoved away from the table and went to settle himself into his quarters. He didn’t bother going to bed, already anticipating the knock that rained down on his door a few hours later. 

“Gabriel.” Castiel’s haunted face greeted him on the other side of the port. “Please.” 

“Get in here, you look like hell.” The tan thermacoat had been pulled on over mismatched scrubs and the usual charming stubble looked haggard. 

“I don’t need to talk. Just give me the dosage so I can sleep.” 

“Get in here or you get nothing.” 

“That isn’t what you promised.” Castiel pointed out, but he came down and closed the hatch behind him. “You tricked me.” 

“For your own good. Sit down.” 

Back stiff and eyes darting, Castiel perched on the room’s sole chair while Gabriel sat crosslegged on the bed. The silence held between them for a long minute until Castiel caved with a soft, 

“I knew him. Before.” 

“Yeah, I guessed that.” Gabriel frowned. “Before when?” 

“Before you found me waist deep in liquor on Beltane.” Castiel rubbed at his forehead. “Please, Gabriel. I just want to sleep.” 

“Where would you run into a Browncoat before then?” 

“The Battle of Serenity.” Each word dropped like lead between them. “I was flying medical and I saw his ship go down. There were so few people left... I raised him up out of the firefight, treated him.” 

“But it didn’t end there. Looked like you guys had some major history.” 

“Dean was...is... the only reason I didn’t go back. The way he talked, what he had seen...” Castiel dropped his hands into his lap, a puppet with cut strings. “He told me things. Showed me more and it changed how I saw the Alliance. I tried to help him, but his mission was beyond me. What I could do, I failed at. We parted ways a year after the battle. I crawled into a bottle, you spilled me out three months later. Can I have my dose now?” 

“You sound like a strung out junkie, you realize that?” 

“I am a strung out junkie. Were you under the impression I wasn’t aware of that?” Castiel held out his hand. 

“What are you running away from?” Gabriel pulled the needle out of the heavily coded compartment next to his bed. 

“You, of all people, shouldn’t have to ask.” 

Gabriel might have jammed the needle in a little harder than he should have. Castiel took the pain with a stoic non-reaction. When he got to his feet though, he stumbled and gripped Gabriel’s shoulder for support. He made it up the ladder intact, but looked too unsteady topside for Gabriel’s liking. 

“This never happened.” Gabriel told him, before bending down to sweep Castiel off his feet and into a bridal carry. It was an awkward pose, Castiel’s long limbs getting in the way, but Gabriel could lift something many times heavier without pause. He carried the limp body down the hall and winged the jump from hatch to the bunk floor. Dumping Castiel unceremoniously onto the bed, Gabriel left him spread akimbo on the covers and snoring. When he emerged back into the hall, Sam was lingering there and watching him with his barely-there gaze. 

“It’s late.” Sam said softly. “I can hear him better when the rest of you are quiet.” 

“Hear who?” Gabriel looked around for Dean, wondering if the man knew his brother had flown the coop. 

“Morningstar. He says you worry him. That you’ll stretch yourself too thin and...” Sam snapped his fingers. The sound echoed too loudly in the hallway. “He says it’s happened before.” 

“Does he?” Gabriel smirked, even has his stomach twisted. “My ship is a lousy gossip.” 

“Ships only speak the truth. They can’t lie except how people make them.” Sam tilted his head, looking over Gabriel with a faint smile. “I think I could like you. It’s a shame, actually.” 

“What’s a shame?” 

“Sammy!” Dean called out, emerging from the galley. “Sammy, where are you?” 

“It’s Sam.” And that gaze was gone. Sam was all present, a half-smile for Gabriel and an eye roll for his brother. “I just went to use the bathroom.” 

“Bathroom, my sweet ass.” Dean glanced at Gabriel with an irritated twist of his mouth. “Sorry if he was bothering you.” 

“He’s not a bother. Actually, I find him fascinating.” 

Dean’s gaze intensified, narrowing down and becoming distinctly predatory. An instinctual reaction on Gabriel’s part made his body language opening up, rocking on his heels and looking altogether larger than his tiny frame suggested. For a tense moment, the two of them were alone, feral dogs circling one another for territory. 

“Hey.” Sam elbowed Dean hard in the ribs. “We going back to bed now?” 

“You’re the one that got out of in the first place, _pok guy_.” 

“ _Bat por_!” Dean mocked in return and the tension broke. 

“I’m going to bed children.” Gabriel excused himself, their bickering trailing him back to his quarters. 

The rest of the week settled into an uneasy rhythm. After their first long conversation, Dean and Castiel seemed intent on avoiding each other as much as possible. Instead Dean settled into fixing the Impala most of the day with a few scornful visits from Kali. Sam and Gabriel wound up teasing out knots in the morning. The company discomfited Gabriel as much as he enjoyed it. He wasn’t used to talking to new people, outside of Loki. It felt too close, too visceral. 

In the afternoon, Gabriel plead work and found something or another to bury himself in. Becky obliged this sudden industry with a backlog of paperwork that required his signature while Chuck offered the more enjoyable alternative of a new book series sweeping through the Core worlds. The salacious mindless stories sped the hours by. 

In the middle of the fifth book, on the seventh day since leaving Georgia, Chuck came over the shipwide announcement:

“We’ve got an Alliance cruiser hailing.” 

Gabriel was in the cockpit in under a minute. He never let Alliance get close without paying sharp attention. What he didn’t expect was to be joined by both his passengers and the entirety of his crew. 

“There a party I didn’t know about?” 

“These two heard Alliance, had a shit fit and galloped up here like they were on fire.” Kali cocked her head at the Smiths, who did look fit to explode. “So I followed them.” 

“Becky dragged me here.” Castiel stood in the doorway, looking mussed and annoyed. 

“Everyone else was going that way?” Becky offered. 

“Don’t look at me, boss. I was already here.” Chuck pointed to a screen. “They aren’t exactly close. Not even a military ship, really. Cargo looks like.” 

“All Alliance ships are military.” Castiel said. 

“Amen.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. 

The comm flickered to life, a stiff balding man in Alliance uniform standing before the comm. 

“Hailing the Morningstar, designation Gamma Gamma six-two-four. This is Captain Zachariah El of the Intrepid, designation: Alpha Kappa one-one-five. ” 

“Good afternoon.” Gabriel reached over Chuck to toggle voice, but not video on. “Sorry for the delay. This is Captain Lyesmith of the Morningstar. What can we do for you today?” 

“This is a courtesy call.” Though the sneer on the Captain’s face came off as anything, but courteous. “We saw in the logs that you’re on a long haul to the Rim. It’s Alliance policy to offer mail or good services to any transport ship heading away from the Core for a lengthy trip.” 

“That’s mighty kind of you.” Gabriel said cheerfully, slurring into a Rim accent. “We slotted off our mail before we took off from Georgia, so we’re A-Ok in that department. Well stocked too. We certainly do thank you for the kind offer.” 

“You’re welcome.” The Captain folded his hands behind his back. “Just a question before we’re out of range then. I see in your manifest that you have two passengers on board. I’ve had my boys send you a visual of two of our most wanted, last seen on Georgia. Would you mind taking a look?” 

“Not at all. Bring it up, Chuck.” 

Gabriel wished he could say he was surprised when Dean and Sam’s likenesses flashed on screen. They were notably younger in the pictures, Sam’s hair shorter and Dean’s face not so careworn. Their names were printed wide underneath, same first names, different last name. Winchester. Weren’t there any real Smiths left in the verse?

“Sorry, sir.” Gabriel drawled. “I’ve got two girls with me on their way to see their Mammy on Athens. Sure don’t like the look of those men though. Good luck finding them.” 

“Be very sure, Captain Lyesmith.” The Captain glared through the vidscreen. “I have notations that you took another ship aboard. These men are armed, very dangerous and they fly an Impala-67.” 

“Told you, sir. Two girls. Alexa and Jeannie and they are flying this rustbucket of a Ladybug. Shocked this thing hadn’t fallen out of the sky. Reckon I’m gonna have to fix it for ‘em too. Neither of them know a wrench from a spanner, but damn if they ain’t worth it.” He painted on an ugly leer. “If you take my meaning.” 

“Yes, Captain Lyesmith, I understand.” The Alliance man pulled a face. “Thank you for your time.” 

“Pleasure is always ours in helping the Alliance.” Casually, Gabriel leaned up, flicking off the comm and waited a solid ten seconds after the light went out. Then he turned on his passengers. “You are damn well going to tell me why I just risked the freedom and lives of my family for you two pissants.” 

“I was wondering that myself.” Kali shot him a look. “Why didn’t we just turn them over?” 

“You know why. Unless you want someone poking around on our ship, looking too hard at our faces?” Gabriel snapped and she nodded sharply, taking a step back. “Kid, take your hand off that gun unless you damn well intend to use it on me.” 

Dean’s hand fell away from the inside of his jacket though he didn’t look happy about it. Sam must have had some kind of weapon on him because he dropped his hands looking guilty as sin. 

“This is some kind of rapsheet.” Chuck had flicked the Winchester poster back up. “Murder, arson, theft, more arson, possession of illegally modified firearms, conspiracy against the government...” 

“It’s all of that and none of it.” Dean crossed his arms defensively across his chest. “We’re hunters.” 

“Hunters of what?” Becky blurted. 

“Boogeymen.” Sam rubbed at his forehead, his usual anxious gesture. For the first time though, Gabriel noticed the faint pockmark scar in the dead center. The third eye. “The people no one knows exist.” 

“Fuck.” Gabriel leaned hard against the back of Chuck’s chair as the pieces came together. “You’re taking out operatives? You suicidal bastards.” 

“Operatives?” Becky glanced between them. “What’s an operative?” 

“Your worst nightmare.” Dean was fast, Gabriel gave him that. His gun was in his hand before Gabriel registered the movement, trained right on Gabriel’s heart. “But you can just ask your captain. Isn’t that right, Loki?” 

“He’s not an operative, you morons.” Dean might be fast, but Kali was faster. She disarmed Dean and had him on the floor, boot between his shoulders before he could put up a decent fight. The gun she pointed at Sam. 

“Dishonest mistake.” Gabriel allowed. “When were you planning on murdering me in cold blood by the way?” 

“We weren’t.” Sam had the grace to look sheepish. “We didn’t know...when we got on board it was pretty obvious this wasn’t the usual operation. I told Dean we should look into it further. I figure you’re sort of rogue, right? But that’s a long body trail.” 

“Justice.” Gabriel pierced Sam with a hard look. “Or didn’t you notice a pattern to your clever research? I only kill people I think can’t be brought in any other way.” 

“So what? You’re some kind of vigilante?” 

“Don’t sound so high and mighty. What would you call yourselves?” 

“I think they said they were hunters.” Becky pointed out. 

“Yes, thanks Becks. Got that. But a rose is a rose is a psycho murderer with an agenda, right boys?” Gabriel nodded at Kali. Reluctantly, she let up her hold on Dean. She didn’t give him back his gun. “So glad we got that all into the open air.” 

“What are you going to do with us?” Dean got to his feet, looking ready to go another round. 

“With you? Nothing. With Sam here?” Gabriel reached up and put his thumb over the pock scar on Sam’s forehead. Sam’s hand caught his wrist in a hard grip, fear bright in his eyes. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. You and I are due for a long conversation.” 

“Nothing you can say to Sam that you can’t say to me.” Dean was definitely squaring off. Kali popped the holster on her own wicked piece. 

“You’re an Academy kid, aren’t you?” Gabriel looked Sam in the eyes. 

“Is anyone going to explain any of this?” 

“You don’t want to know, Becky.” Castiel said firmly. “Gabriel. Tread with care.” 

“We’re not going to talk about how very pissed off I am with you right now.” Gabriel didn’t look at Castiel. He didn’t dare look away from Sam’s stormy glare. “You knew who they were. You knew what they were doing and you said nothing. You endangered all of us.” 

“They’re my friends.” Castiel sounded scraped raw. 

“And we’re your family.” Kali threw back, jagged with betrayal. 

“Was it you that broke him out, Castiel?” Gabriel dropped his hand as far as he could with Sam still holding his wrist in an iron grip. “Makes sense. Good Alliance medic could get in and out. High level espionage stuff. Would have been penance. But no one told you the shape they leave Academy students in, did they? What did he look like when you got him out?” 

“Ruined.” Said Castiel. “Soulless.” Said Dean at the same time, then, “How do you know?” 

“That’s for me and Sam to know and the rest of you to stay blissfully in the dark about.” Gabriel flashed Sam a tight, joyless smile. “If you want to know where you came from, kid.”

“I’m not letting you alone with him.” Dean growled. 

“I’m sorry, did you think you had a choice?” Dean was fast. Kali was faster. But Gabriel had left behind human long ago. He broke Sam’s grip, stole the knife at his belt in the space between two breaths. The point he put not to Dean’s neck, but between two ribs. One hard shove and he’d have Dean’s heart on the end of the blade.“You listen to me, you arrogant little shit. I took you into my home, let you loose around my people. I don’t care who you are or how mighty your mission. Me and Sam are gonna go have a little chat and you are going to go sit on your hands somewhere and not bother anyone. Do you understand?” 

“Yeah.” Dean glared. “I hear you. But if you hurt-” 

“Remember who came aboard to murder who.” Gabriel dropped the point of his knife. “Kali, keep on eye on him. Chuck, scramble up our data and make sure we didn’t get scanned. If the Alliance finds the Impala on board, none of this will mean shit. Becky, I want you to get on the Cortex. See if you can put Sam and Dean on another ship out of Georgia, preferably someone we aren’t too fond of. Castiel, get the hell out my sight.” 

“And me?” Sam asked, practically vibrating with anger and confusion. 

“My quarters.” The knife he tucked back into Sam’s sheath, going slow enough that Sam would feel it. “I promise on whatever honor I have left that I’m not going to hurt you, ok?” 

“Yeah, ok.” Sam went out ahead of him. 

“Sammy!” Dean protested. 

“You know any other way to get answers?” Sam challenged. 

“Cas-” 

“No, Dean.” Castiel stared hard at Gabriel. “Believe me when I tell you that Gabriel is the most qualified person to tell Sam what he wants to know.” 

“Why? Because he’s an ex-operative?” 

“No.” Castiel licked his lips. “Because he’s the thing operatives have nightmares about.” 

“That’s me. The boogeyman’s boogeyman.” Gabriel winked at Becky, who summoned a confused smile. He took the ladder at normal speed, fighting the rush of adrenaline surging through him. The hatch to his room was already open. Sam stood in the middle of the floor. “Just make yourself at home.” 

“I don’t know how to do that.” Sam blinked rapidly as if clearing his vision. “Morningstar says I should trust you.” 

“And ships don’t lie, right?” Gabriel closed the hatch behind himself, before settling on his bed and indicating Sam towards the chair. 

“Right.” Unlike Castiel, Sam fairly melted into the seat taking over the spindly chair with his gangling limbs. “Can you help me? Be less crazy?” 

“I don’t actually know. I’m shocked you’re even walking and talking, truth be told.” Gabriel frowned. “How long did that take?” 

“Little under a year.” Sam rubbed at his forehead again. “Don’t remember much of the first few months. If Dean had given up on me, I don’t know what would have happened, but he never did. Fed me, bathed me...everything. He was determined.” 

“Took a damn sight more than determination.” Gabriel shook his head. “They stripped your amygdala, right? Left you raw. You probably had some psychic traits before that.” 

Sam only nodded, pale and drawn. 

“Yeah, that’s their M.O. and they trained you I’m sure. Be a better assassin. Every generation better than the next. New and improved operatives. They never could be content with what they had.” 

“Why do you know all this?” 

Gabriel took a long uneven breath then let it out. Despite himself, he liked Sam. The kid was earnest and well intentioned. Maybe he had blood on his hands, but Gabriel knew what it was like to be a weapon. You found a purpose because you had to. You turned your cutting edge where you thought it belonged rather than where it was ordered to go. 

“I’m one of the originals. What they keep striving to replicate with you lot.” Gabriel smiled humorlessly. “Made in our image.” 

“So you are an ex-operative.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What are you then?”

“The great question.” Gabriel rubbed a hand over his lips, the story sitting ill at ease on the tip of his tongue. “When I was two years old, I was adopted by a man with no name. We all called him Father. There were five of us, all psychically inclined to an enormous extent. Off the charts. But Father...he was something else. A natural born psychic who sharpened the blade of his mind against itself. I suppose, you could say he created himself. He had funding from every Alliance government agency with one directive: make more of himself. Create an army of brilliant psychics to be put to work in every possible department. Five children they gave him, orphans who had tested high in certain areas very early. And he did brilliantly. There were no machines with Father, no tests. All of that came later. He used his mind to shape us, nurture our abilities. We were...other. The Archangel Project they called it.” 

“And you were two?” Sam asked, distaste wrinkling his mouth. 

“Father found young children more malleable.” Gabriel shrugged. “It wasn’t what you’d think. He was a good dad in a lot of ways. I never realized how unusual it all was until they started letting us off the compound. My brothers were...faithful, I suppose you could say. Obedient the way the Alliance wanted them. I asked questions and Father encouraged that. He must have already suspected...I don’t know. 

“By the time I was fifteen, the assignments started. We’d go out in pairs or alone. Eliminate enemies of the Alliance, infiltrate terrorist cells or act as tracking hounds to route out whatever prey had gone to ground. The funders loved us. We were...perfect. Unquestioning, unbending soldiers that were nigh impossible to kill. They pressed Father to start a second generation. To work with adults to speed along their investments. It worked to a lesser extent. I’ve only met a few of that generation. The Angel Initiative. And no, for the record, they aren’t operatives either. They specialized in the sciences, chemistry, botany-” 

“Medicine.” Sam’s eyes went wide. “Castiel...I knew there was something weird about him right from the beginning. No one could get into the Academy without getting vetted a thousand fucking ways, but he waltzed right in and took me out without a single alarm bell ringing. Dean never would believe me. But I saw him do things...the way he healed my body...” 

“Castiel had magic hands.” Gabriel shook his head. “But whatever he could do once, he can’t do now. Angels require regular check ins, their programming starts to break down if they’re away for too long. Castiel hasn’t gone in years.” 

“Is that why I’m...” Sam made a loop to loop with one finger near his temple. 

“No, that’s because my brothers suck at trying to replicate Father’s work.” Gabriel shook his head. “What they do to your kind...it’s trying to copy a masterpiece with finger paint.” 

“So what happened to him? Why isn’t he around? And why are you cruising around playing vigilante?”

“They ordered me to kill a woman. You’ve probably heard of her: Chanda Bala.” 

“The Goddess of Mumbai? Why would the Alliance want you to go after her?” Sam drummed his fingers over his thighs. “She was practically a saint. Fed the hungry, healed the sick and saving nothing for herself. Didn’t they once vote her the most popular President of any Core planet?” 

“They did. The year they sent me to kill her.” Gabriel had read through the order, the sharp bronze taste of blood that signaled readiness for the hunt in his mouth, but a sickness growing in his gut. “2505. The first true stirrings of the Browncoats had begun and she was their number one agent. She knew the Alliance in and out. A stalwart stand up member of the leadership with the rebellion whispering in her ear. So she had to go.” 

“I went into the Academy in 2504. Never did hear what happened to her.” 

“Disappeared.” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Right into thin air. Walking from her office to her home.” 

“Changed her name, I’d bet.” Sam glanced upward to the cockpit. “Got deep undercover.” 

“I liked her. Immediately. I followed her for weeks, planning her death and when the time came...I talked to her instead.” She’d put up a fair fight herself when he announced what he’d come to do. He’d let her take him down to prove a point, unaware of the bad precedent it would set for the rest of their working relationship. “Told her that I wasn’t going to do it, but they’d send a dozen like me after her until the job was done.” 

“She must have loved that.” 

“Like a cat loves water, but she knew it was the truth.” 

“Which one of you decided to run away first?” 

“Joint decision.” He lied. The plan had been all his, ready before he even met her, a niggling doubt blossoming into full on rebellion. “We headed back to the compound so I could get a few things and cover our tracks. Thought we’d hop a few planets, steal a pair of ships and go our separate ways.” 

“What happened?” 

“Father.” Gabriel walked to the Cortex monitor, keying in the four thirty-two randomly generated characters that could access the encrypted vid file. “Only two people in the verse have seen this.” 

“Why are you showing it to me then?” Sam was on his feet, crowding up to the screen as if Gabriel might snatch the privilege away at the last minute. 

“Because it’s my fault you’re fucked.” Gabriel didn’t look at Sam, didn’t dare. “I wanted to leave so bad, I didn’t think about what would happen. My brothers...well. They took up where Father left off, but they didn’t have his finesse. They called the whole thing the Academy, but it’s hell, isn’t it? A demon project.” 

“They called us students.” Sam said mildly, but the disconnected look was back, a faint shiver over his skin. “We learned.” 

“A needle right through bone and brain.” The spot on Sam’s forehead might have healed, but Gabriel knew the damage that lay beneath it. “Straight infodump into the mind while they tore away your protections. I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

“You didn’t do it.” Sam laid a shaking hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I know who I hate and you’re not on the list.” 

“Then you’re a better man than me.” Pressing play, Gabriel slipped out from under the touch. “Oh, and clearly you can’t tell your brother about this.” 

The video began before Sam could protest. 

Gabriel had memorized the brief recording years ago, but it still twisted at him to see Father’s face appear as it should be: serene, sober and shining with his own brilliance. That was the man who had held a sobbing toddler in his arms and hummed him to sleep. That was the man who had bandaged his cuts and bruises. That was the man who had combed delicately through infant Gabriel’s mind and made him into something entirely new. 

“Hello Gabriel.” Even the voice was different, clear and deep as a bell. 

“That’s Chuck.” Sam choked out.

“Believe me when I say it really isn’t.” 

“I am not under duress.” The man who had become Chuck looked through the camera and straight into Gabriel’s soul. “The code is Epsilon Cabbage Rabbit Flutter Eighty-Two. I’ve left you this message on the assumption that you failed to carry out your orders. I hope you failed. All of this...all of what you do was not what I wanted. 

“I wanted to make a better world with better people to live in it. In my hubris I took what made your brothers human from them. When I made Lucifer....I thought he was perfect. My ideal. Beautiful and dedicated and loving...he’s gone now, you know. I took care of it. I know you loved him, so know too that I only did what had to be done. His punishment was an elegant one and not without some pain, but he will come out the better for it. 

“I failed in so many ways. But you...I think I did alright with you. You think. You’re clever...well. There isn’t much time for regret now. The clock is ticking down. 

“Listen to me and do as I say if you can. There’s a ship in the dockyard of Callisto Bay, a Luna Moth called the Morningstar. It’s owned by a shell company of mine. Specially modified with the latest in tech and some experimental computing. It’s yours now. Take him and fly with my blessing.” 

Father paused, checking behind him before returning to the camera. 

“Gabriel, you can leave with no strings attached, no way for them to find you, but I must ask you one last favor though I am hardly deserving of it. I am...vulnerable here. There will always be someone looking to me to make new children and I cannot agree to that anymore. What I have done to you, to all my angels....but suicide I cannot face either. Though perhaps this will be a kind of death. 

“On board the ship, there will be a man. He will look like me, but he will have no memory of what he was. He will know how to pilot a Luna Moth and a few other useful skills. If you choose to leave him on some backwater planet, I would understand, but please consider keeping him under your care. I have not always been a good Father, but I like to think I would make a good friend and ally. 

“Regardless of what you choose, remember this,” Father leaned close, “I love you, my son.” 

It twisted into Gabriel like barbed wire just as it always did and he reached forward to plunge the screen into darkness. Sam said nothing for a long time, watching the video screen as if it might jump back to life. 

“If you had stayed,” Sam finally began, a deep line carved between his eyes, “do you really think you could have stopped it?” 

“I don’t know. I may have been the one with the questions, but I was also the weakest. Michael...he was the unstoppable force. If I wanted to end the program, it would have been his life on the line.” He frowned. “He’s my brother. I couldn’t have killed him.” 

“Nothing short of death? Really?” 

“We’re programmed.” 

“Yeah, so am I, but I can overcome-” 

“I’m not talking about little trigger words that make your eyelids heavy.” Gabriel snapped. “Deep conditioning. Do what Father tells you and in the absence of his orders, the Alliance will guide you. That’s embedded in us. You heard it from the horse’s mouth.” 

“But you did break it. With your questions and-” 

“I didn’t break it. Do you think I go out playing vigilante for kicks?” Gabriel sat down hard on the bed. “It builds up in me. This terrible need to just... Find what’s wrong. Fix it by any means possible. It’s this hot itch inside my head, all the time clawing at the inside of my skull. 

“There’s a verse, Deuteronomy 16:20. That’s what Father carved into me: Justice, justice shall you pursue.” 

“That thou may live in the land God has shown thee.” Sam finished. “But I don’t think this is much of a paradise.” 

“No?” He stroked a hand over the warn nappy fabric of his comforter. “It’s as close as I’ve ever been.” 

“How can you say that and still feel so guilty about what was done to me at the same time? You can’t live in paradise when you’re drowning in regret and picking off small time douchebags.” 

“I can feel pain and still appreciate joy.” Gabriel watched Sam try to digest that. “I guess that’s not your experience.” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“I think we’ve established that this is an open forum, kid.” 

“Yeah.” Sam sat down beside him. “I can’t actually remember the last time I was happy. Since the Academy it’s hard for me to really...feel stuff. Or maybe I just sort of feel everything, I don’t know. I have to filter so much that almost nothing can come through and what does knocks me for a loop.” 

Gabriel watched Sam’s hands, moving in small circles as he tried to express himself. Impulsively, Gabriel captured one of them. Sam didn’t pull away, but he did stop talking. 

“I can show you.” 

“Show me what?” Sam’s fingers clenched, though it was hard to tell if they were attempting to make a fist or capture Gabriel’s hand tighter in his own. 

“The last time you were happy.” 

“You’re psychic.” 

“Duh. Have you been listening?” 

“Why didn’t you just read Dean and me when we came on board?” 

“You’d know I was there. It’s not a subtle feeling, way I do it. Stirs stuff up even in non-psychics.” He studied Sam’s knuckles, riddled with tiny scars. He imagined hours at a punching bag, dodging of blades and more prosaic accidents. 

“So what...you just want to take a walk, stir everything up and find my happy place?” 

“Yeah. Why not?” 

“Cause my head is already twisted on backwards and covered in psychic fingerprints. Why would I let someone else in?” 

“Because I’ll give you back what you lost and not leave anything behind.” 

Studying him with those changeable eyes, Sam reached out with his free hand to touch the ship wall behind him. His gaze turned inward, silent and almost absent. 

“Ok.” He said with a confused frown. 

“My ship tell you it was safe?” 

“Your ship told me that he would shake us both loose if we got lost.” The frown turned to a rueful half-smile. “I think he doesn’t want to lose the one person who can hear him.” 

“No one’s getting lost.” Gabriel turned Sam’s hand over, traced lightly over the long jagged line of his palm. 

“Should I close my eyes or breath or-” 

The floor dropped out from under them. Gabriel stretched long atrophied muscles and pushed. They fell together through Sam’s memories, sense impressions paired with fleeting images. 

The Impala, rich in a certain burnt oil/soy pack/Dean smell-taste, home among the endless cold black. Before that a shabby cabin, despair and layers and layers of disorientation, delusion and a total lack of anything resembling humanity. Peeled back to basic instincts, everything was tainted with the coppery tang of blood and hunger. 

Before that, a small well lit room. Antiseptic and full of pinpricks. Too many years in isolation, in training, sitting in clothes soaked with sweat and fear. A force shook the walls, tore them down and in that paint smeared memory, Castiel glowed. He swept in and carried Sam away to the cabin. Castiel sounded like a hawk, a sharp scream as he tore them both free. 

The Academy was layers and layers and Gabriel tore through them with brute force. He saw because he had to, felt because Sam felt, but he didn’t want to linger. Both of them could too easily be torn apart from it. 

The shove broke them through, brought them back to gangling adolescence and with it the Impala again. It was the same though another person’s scent was held in the recycled air. Dad, it was labelled, love/anger/whiskey/regret soaking through everything. A swollen trapped sensation, an eerie anticipation of the very real prison to come, tinged everything and overshadowed good. 

Gabriel pushed further back and found it. Here, some dirtball world with a sun rising in a red haze. Sam ran over the rocky terrain, laughing as he was chased by his brother for some imagined offense. The Impala sat not far away, an older man hosing off layers of dust. Everything and everyone was right and Sam turned his face up to the blooming sun and soaked in warmth on his skin. 

Once Gabriel had gotten the taste for Sam’s joy, it wasn’t hard to find. He could seek it through all the layers of history. He found stray moments, the kind you forget that you’ve remembered. There were even a few scattered through the Academy years. A beautiful blond girl, who had held Sam’s hand before their individual sessions and told him about the cows her parents used to raise. 

Mostly though, Gabriel found Dean. In sunshine, in darkness, in childhood opening cans of chicken soup and two weeks ago, throwing back a beer and telling bad jokes to the bartender. There was Dean in innocence, and after the war, reminding Sam who he was when it all got too much and he lost himself in the empty spaces between worlds. 

“Enough.” Sam’s very real voice echoed painfully through Gabriel’s head. “Please, enough.” 

With a wrench, Gabriel broke away. He dropped Sam’s hand and gathered his head back together. A headache gathered at the base of his neck, readying for a frontal assault. 

“Did it help?” 

“It was a thousand tiny deaths.” Sam sounded hoarse as if he had been screaming. 

“So...no then?” 

“It helped.” Sam laughed, two heavy huffs of amused air. “It...yes. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He tried to suppress a yawn, but it broke free anyway. It set Sam off, yawning hugely. 

“I just need to lay down, I think.” Gabriel blinked, once, twice, with too much black space between the light. 

“Yeah. Take a nap.” Sam agreed. 

Gabriel didn’t remember anything after that. He hadn’t used his abilities like that in too long, trying to be careful was exhausting. 

When he woke, Sam was curled around him in the darkness. They were over the blankets, still clothed, but it was still the most intimate Gabriel had been with another person in far too long. He could feel each one of Sam’s fingers resting over his ribs even through the thick sweater. The sour warmth of Sam’s breath beat against the back of his neck, stirring up the fine hair. 

“You can’t stay here.” Gabriel whispered. 

“Just a little while.” Sam murmured, pulling Gabriel closer. “Keep me warm a little longer.” 

Gabriel closed his eyes against reality and drifted back to sleep. When the morning lights woke him again, Sam had turned over towards the wall and didn’t stir as Gabriel slipped away. He went into the washroom, pissed and brushed his teeth without thinking about much of anything. He touched one hand to the wall, 

“Good morning.” 

_Morning is a relative distinction. Time is an imaginary concept meant to console people._

“FUCK!” Gabriel jumped back, his hand falling away. The voice in his head had been clear as day. It had been a little smug, but thoughtful in a pretentious sort of way. In short, it was the exact voice he had always imagined Morningstar would have if he could talk. “No way.” 

He waited for a response and heard nothing. Tentatively, he put his hand back on the wall. 

_I’ve given it considerable thought and really humanity as a whole would be better off using a universal system of time that-_

“You’re babbling.” Gabriel told his ship. 

_I don’t babble. I’m incapable of..._ The ship trailed off. _You can hear me?_

“Apparently.” 

_I had considered that creating a psychic link between you and Sam might have some odd effects, but this one I hadn’t anticipated._ The ship made an odd, cough-purr of a sound. Like it was clearing its throat. _Hello, Gabriel._

“Hello, Morningstar.” 

A minute hesitation, the great rumbling of the engines hiccuping under Gabriel’s feet. _I have missed speaking with you._

“When did we talk before?” 

_This connection cannot hold._ The temperature dropped abruptly. _I will find a way back through, but until then. Know this: I am your brother and I love you._

“It’s not possible.” But he had imagined this voice. This familiar, half-loving, half-loathing voice. 

_There are no limits to what Father could do. Possibility is a flexible word._

“But how?” 

There was no answer.Gabriel wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he spent the next ten minutes trying to get the ship to talk to him again, but Morningstar was right. The connection couldn’t hold. Eventually, he had to concede defeat and move back into the main room. Sam slept on, the blankets now pulled up over his head. Gabriel resisted the urge to reach out, stroke the silk of his hair or shake him awake and make him replicate that connection. Instead, he dressed and heaved himself up into his small world. 

He went to the mess first. There was no sign of Becky, except for the freshly brewed coffee. He poured himself a cup, drinking it sip by sip, integrating his new knowledge in with the old. It had been a long time since life had presented him with so many surprises in one day. 

With a soft warning of a cough, Castiel came in. He looked rough, thick stubble on his cheeks and eyes red rimmed. He came to rest a few feet away from Gabriel, still and watchful. 

“When I picked you up off that bar floor, I knew there was a story.” Gabriel sipped his coffee, only glancing at Castiel from the corner of his eye. “But I never asked.” 

“I appreciated that.” Castiel said levelly. “I assumed that they would be here and gone. Dean has never lingered anywhere. I never intended to endanger any of you.” 

“We live on the raggedy edge.” The coffee slid thick and bitter down his throat. “We’re runaways. I work hard to keep the Alliance at bay.” 

“I know.” 

“I should have asked.” Gabriel finished off the cup and set it down. “I should have forced you tell me.” 

“I wouldn’t’ve.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” 

Castiel picked up Gabriel’s empty mug, poured his own coffee into it. 

“Do you think you can help Sam?” 

“No.” He watched Castiel drink. “But I don’t think I’ll be hurting him either.” 

Castiel licked his perennially dry lips, catching on flake of skin and tearing at it with his teeth until a small drop of blood appeared. He swiped at it with his tongue. 

“I did terrible things to save Sam from the Academy. I killed my brothers and sisters. Only doing what they had been programmed to do.” He stared at Gabriel with that crazed intensity only Castiel could summon. “When I tried to heal him...it stretched me beyond breaking. I was delirious. I couldn’t burden Dean with his brother and myself. That’s why I left.” 

“We all have blood on our hands.” Gabriel reached out, took Castiel’s face in his hands and drew him down enough to kiss the center of his forehead. “If you want to leave with them, you go with my blessing. If you want to stay, you know you have a home here.” 

“I thought you were angry.” 

“I am.” Gabriel released him. “But I’ll get past it eventually. I’m trying to work on minimizing regret.” 

“Cas?” Dean, hair raked through at strange angles, shuffled in. “Where’s Sammy?” 

“I believe he’s sleeping.” Castiel filled the mug again and passed it to Dean. “Drink up.” 

“Am I off babysitting duty now?” Kali stood in the doorway, dark circles under her eyes. 

“You stayed on him all night?” 

“You told me too.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You could’ve gone to sleep when he did.” 

“How would I know he wasn’t faking? Forgive me if I didn’t want him to kill you while I napped.” 

“Aw, you care.” He grinned widely at her. 

“I was just following an order. Sir.” She snapped a salute at him. 

“You can’t deny our love.” 

“This is me. Denying.” She picked up a soy protein bar and then disappeared back down the hall. 

“Harsh.” Dean watched Kali go. “She’s some kind of lady.” 

“She could kill you with a spoon.” Gabriel growled. 

“See me trying anything?” Dean leaned against the counter, breaking into Castiel’s personal space without a qualm. 

“I see something.” He muttered, then louder, “Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself for the day or should I assign someone to sit on you?” 

“I’ll stay with Dean.” Castiel answered instead. 

“I think that might be a conflict of interest.” But Gabriel left them alone anyway. When he left, they weren’t talking, just standing too close sharing coffee and air. 

The cockpit held the rest of his crew. Becky had fallen asleep in the co-pilot chair, a blanket tucked tenderly around her. The cortex rotated slowly in front of her, a light show of trading paths. Chuck stared at her over the mouth of his whiskey bottle. The black rolled out before them, full of infinite promise. 

“Morning.” Gabriel said quietly. 

“Hey.” Chuck tipped back his chair. “Everything ok?” 

“No idea. Probably not. Becks reroute the boys?” 

“Yeah, they shipped out from Georgia and ended up on Crete, probably hiding out with the Low Down Gang.” 

“Perfect. She’s good at what she does.” 

“Isn’t she?” The sappy smile brought one to Gabriel’s face. 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” 

“Sure.” Chuck took a long sip from his bottle, smearing his hand over his lips after. “What’s up?” 

“Is it possible that Morningstar has an A.I.?” 

“Uh.” Chuck frowned, reached out to run a hand over the console. “Wouldn’t we know by now?” 

“I know. It’s probably a stupid idea.” 

“Not stupid, just ahead of its time. Creating a responsive bit of software isn’t hard, but a true artificial intelligence is nearly impossible. It’s hard to make a computer really think and grow like that.” Another gulp of whiskey and Chuck slunk an inch lower in his chair. “I always thought it’d be easier if you could download a pre-existing mind onto a computer. Much easier than making one from scrap.” 

“Could you do that?” Gabriel asked casually. 

“Not me personally, but yeah sure. The tech is there. Hugely unethical though. Doubt anyone would admit to working on something like that. Anyway, Luna Moths are factory standard. Nice processors, but nothing like what you would need to hold that amount of information.” 

“Gotcha.” Unless you were the most powerful psychic who had ever lived with access to cutting edge tech. Father could have done it. It would have been a neat solution to a renegade child. An imprisonment instead of death, then throw away the key with a bit of amnesia. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” Chuck toggled something and the ship shuddered, pushing faster. “By the way, we should be at Athens in three days. I skimmed some time off the original flight plan last night.” 

“Fantastic.” 

When Gabriel crawled back into his bunk, Sam was still in his bed. Awake now, a book open on his lap. He looked up as Gabriel came down the ladder. 

“We’re landing in three days.” Gabriel told him. “Becks threw them off your trail. Should be able to hide out with your friend as long as you need to.” 

“Yeah?” Sam ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. “That’s...thanks. Probably would’ve been easier just to space us.” 

“And miss out on last night’s fun and games?” 

They studied each other across the distance. 

“You should come back to bed.” Sam set his book aside. 

“Why?” 

“Because I’d like to take off your clothes and take you apart. Hard to do that if you’re over there.” 

“I like being whole.” He hedged. 

“You got into my head last night. Saw everything I have on offer. Least you could do is let me have a piece of you.”

“That is the least sexually appealing offer I’ve ever had.” 

Sam sat up further, taking off his sweater and then his-t-shirt. Under all the layers, Sam had acres of tanned skin and a washboard stomach. 

“I could take off my pants too.” Sam offered, a wry tilt to his mouth. “I promise I’m worth the risk.” 

“That’s what they all say.” But Gabriel was already stripping, kicking his boots aside. 

In the sweating aftermath, Sam tipped in for kiss after kiss as if the sex hadn’t been near enough to sate his desire for intimacy.

“I can’t stay.” Sam told him between one kiss and the next. 

“I didn’t ask.” Gabriel tightened his grip on Sam’s forearm, the muscle flexing a little under his fingers. “You have to get the hell off my ship.” 

“But I can come back.” 

“Can you?” 

“I will. Winchesters are hard to shake once we’ve gotten the scent.” 

“I don’t think I like being cast in the role of prey.” 

“Then don’t run.” 

They spent all three days in bed. Sam emerged periodically to assure Dean he was alive and bring back trays of food. It was the first vacation Gabriel had had since...well. Ever. It was deliriously luxurious to ignore everything for just a few days. Glutted on sex and conversation free of secrets, they built a few new happy memories for the both of them. 

“Don’t be a hero.” Gabriel said in lieu of goodbye when the Cargo Bay doors opened on Athens. 

“Can’t make any promises.” Sam brushed a last kiss over his lips before tossing his duffel up into the Impala. 

“Thanks for not tossing us to the wolves.” Dean clapped a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, following after Sam. 

It was raining outside, the wind blowing a faint mist into the bay. Gabriel suppressed a shiver. 

“We can pick up the crystal packages in a few hours.” Becky tapped into the docking computer. “You ok with that boss?” 

“No rush.” He watched the hatch close and the Impala rise seamlessly from the decking. It’s engines had a low slick purr that shook through the air as it slid out into the soaked sky. 

He left Becky sorting out the details. Without much thought, he wound up in the medbay. Castiel was going through the motions of sterilization, shoulders hunched. 

“You stayed.” 

“I did.” Castiel didn’t look up, running an UV light over a scalpel. “Who else would patch you back up when you do something foolish?” 

“He would have had you.” 

“He does have me.” And the words were warm and content, something had been settled there. “I want to get clean. Get my head on straight. I need...I need to be here for that.” 

“You sure?” 

Finally Castiel looked up and for the first time, he wasn’t the man Gabriel had scraped off the floor in a bar. He looked utterly at home in his skin. Here was the young soldier, full of conviction. Better now for the principles being his own rather than what was fed into him. 

“I’m sure.” 

Though they were grounded and the engines grounded to a halt, Morningstar hummed under the feet. The constant vibrating heart of the ship was as familiar to Gabriel as the scratch of Becky’s pen, Kali’s whispers in the dark, Castiel’s nervous pacing and Chuck’s broken hum. He put his hand to the hull, picking up the tune and humming along with it all the way back to his bunk. 

**August 2518**

“.. It was supposed to calm the population, weed out aggression. Well, it works. The people here stopped fighting. And then they stopped everything else. They stopped going to work, they stopped breeding, talking, eating. There's 30 million people here, and they all just let themselves die.”

They had crowded into the cockpit, watching through the holorecording for the second time. Gabriel, Kali and Castiel were stone faced, but Becky was openly weeping. Chuck had tugged her into his lap and she shook against him, crying for all of them. 

“I have to be quick! About a tenth of a percent of the population had the opposite reaction to the Pax. Their aggressor response increased beyond madness. They have become... Well, they've killed most of us. And not just killed... they've done things...I won't live to report this, but people have to know. We meant it for the best... to make people safer.”

The recording started over again from the beginning. The same loop was playing on every station across the verse. A sobbing battle cry that would destabilize the government. It would breed a new rebellion that stretched from the Rim into the heart of the Core worlds. 

“What do we do, Cap?” They all looked to him, waiting and tense. 

“Hail the Impala.” He was steady, calm. The path spread before him as bright and unavoidable as a sun. 

Through the film of tears, Becky punched in the right codes. It was answered in seconds. Sam and Dean, identical worried faces too close to the lense. 

“It wasn’t us.” Sam said before a hello could be exchanged. “I wish to hell it was, but we have no idea who did it.” 

“What will you do?” Castiel asked, the perfect mask crumbling around the corners of his mouth. 

“We strike now.” Dean turned toward Castiel’s voice, a compass needle to North. “Everything will be in chaos. They’ll be trying to cover it up, maybe kill the remaining students. Operatives will go deep to ground...we have to get into the nerve center.” 

“The Blue Sun Company.” Gabriel knotted his hands to the small of his back. “I can get you in.” 

Too many pairs of eyes were on him, but he only met Sam’s. 

“You might not walk back out.” 

“That’s a risk we’ll both be taking, won’t it?” 

“And me.” Dean said firmly. “Don’t even think for one fucking second you’re going in alone, Sammy.” 

“And me.” Castiel grabbed onto Gabriel’s wrist as though he might flee right that second. “I have unfinished business.” 

“Anyone else for some suicidal heroics?” 

“Someone has to keep this beast in the air.” Kali shrugged, liquid and beautiful. 

“We’ll keep her running hot for you, Cap.” Becky got to her feet and kissed him like she meant it. 

“Coordinates.” Dean barked. 

Morningstar took them there, the temperature plummeting until it was nigh unbearable. Gabriel pressed his hands to the icy walls and made promises he couldn’t keep. The engines turned sulky and grinding, but even the tantrum couldn’t keep them from their destination. The Impala gleamed in the Cargo Bay. 

Dean got out first, circling Castiel like a nervous moon until they collided in silence and the hard press of one body to the other. Sam had to make a wide arch to avoid their spin. He came to stop in front of Gabriel, clear eyed and expectant. 

“Hey there, kid. Ready for the end of the world?” 

“Born for it.” Sam leaned down until the long sweep of his hair enclosed them both in darkness. “How about you, angel?” 

“Yeah.” He grinned into the kiss that followed and the next. “Let’s tear it all down.”


End file.
